


Odds and Ends

by NorthernLights37



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Collection for Assholes and Other Classy People, Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, My Usual Soft Shit in Drabble Form, Romance, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25996099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernLights37/pseuds/NorthernLights37
Summary: A ongoing collections of drabbles from Tumblr - collected here for your viewing pleasure.  Each is set in a specific storyline that I've already written, so you'll probably wanna read the original fic first.1.  Born to Love - Dany POV for Arranged2.  Hands Touching Hands - Jon POV for Beautiful Creatures3.  Movie Monday - Dany POV for A Thin Line4.  Netflix and Chill - Dany POV for Reunited5.  Deep Thoughts - Dany POV for Something Stupid6.  Bleed Out - Jon POV for Strictly BusinessThe original ask prompt and a link to the fic the drabble is set in are included in each chapter.  Enjoy!
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 81
Kudos: 432





	1. Born To Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My original soft baby Lillian81 gets some made-to-order soft shit - set in Arranged!

##  _**6\. “We can do it together, okay?”** _

_(Although dropping the okay and replacing it with someone universe-appropriate :))_

_**Jon and Dany in the universe of** _ [ _**Arranged** _ ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F23006905&t=ZGFiNmE3YTQxYzg5YTM4ZWQxODdjNzM1OTBkOTczZjg1OGE5ZThhYSwyODEyZDRmZTZhOTA0MDMyNWM0ZTYzMThkMzZjZDY5NGI0ZjJmOThh&ts=1597863479)

“Mother!” Dany’s pained gasp echoes throughout the chamber, as she writhes on the bed in agony. The hour has come, at last, and the babe within her readies to be birthed, and she is absolutely and completely terrified. “It hurts!”

Rhaella hurries to sit beside her, perching nervously and wiping at her daughter’s brow with a cool cloth as the red-robed mid-wife gently examines her progress.

“Don’t be afraid, sweetling. You are doing so well. Not much longer now, and you can push, I think.” Her mother exchanges a look with the mid-wife, who gives a terse nod.

“Soon,” is all the woman says, and it only makes Dany’s fear grow sharper. She is not sure she trusts these servants of R’hllor, but she has little choice, in this moment.

“Where is Jon?” Her mother frowns at her whimper, and slides the cool cloth against her cheek.

Rhaella clucks her tongue and glances towards the door. “He is outside, with Barristan and Arthur and Gerold, no doubt wearing a path into the stone.”

She had thought she was ready, but she is not. She needs him. He makes her feel stronger, braver, than she ever has alone.

“Fetch him,” she pleads. “Please!” She knows her mother well enough to see the telltale sign that she is going to push back against Dany’s request, and she tries one more desperate tack. “Mama, please!” She hasn’t called her mother that since her girlhood, and she sees immediately the way Rhaella’s face softens at the endearment. Another pain seizes her body, and she groans through it, sweat slicking her hair, her brow creased with effort. “Please. I need him.”

It is enough, she sees, and the first relief she has felt sweeps through her as the pain subsides for a moment, and her mother rushes to the door.

And then he is there, her sweet Jon, her husband, his face white as a ghost when he sees the state of her and scurries to her side.

“Dany?” He presses fevered kisses to her brow and takes her hand in his larger grip. “Gods, are you alright?”

She nods, forcing a smile, but the birthing pains are coming faster now, and she lets out a small scream as the next hits. But his hand in hers, oh yes, that is what she craved, the strong, cool strength of him next to her.

Still, her fear will not depart, and when she can speak again she finds his eyes, dark and worried, trained on her. “I don’t know if I can do this, Jon. It hurts. It hurts so much.”

At her words, his own frantic fear seems to dissipate, and a calm sureness takes him. Wordlessly, he helps her sit up, climbs nimbly behind her on her birthing bed, his thighs bracketing her, his chest behind her back, his lips at her ear.

“Yes, you can, Dany. You can do anything. I’ve seen it.” His absolute surety seeps into her, bit by hit, and now, when the next contraction takes her, he is just behind her, his hands clenched in hers as she endures it. “Besides, you aren’t alone. We can do it together, yes?” She nods, tiredly, and gives him a wan smile.

The mid-wife between her spread thighs looks up, lips turned up at the corners as she appears pleased by Dany’s progress.

“When the next comes, you must bear down, dragon daughter.”

Dany nods, relaxing against Jon, letting him support her weight as he whispers assurances into her ear, and the pain comes again, and again, and time seems to speed by, a blur of enormous agony and blissful relief when finally, the pressure reaches its’ peak, and she pushes as hard as she can, feeling her babe slip from her body as the mid-wife makes to raise the baby so that she and Jon can see.

She has a moment of panic when she sees the babe, streaked in blood and fluids, not making a sound, but with a quick smack to the babe’s bottom a small mouth opens and a wail fills the room. It is the sweetest sound she’s ever heard.

The cord that binds them still is cut, and several women are cleaning the squirming, squalling bundle, and when she looks to her mother she finds the older woman crying, a dazed smile on her lips.

“it’s a boy,” her mother says quietly, and behind her Jon trembles.

A hot, wet drop falls onto her neck, and she sees that he, too, is crying, tears sliding down his cheeks as he looks at Rhaella, his face a mask of shock and joy.

“A boy?”

She has never felt more tired in her life, when her small boy is swaddled and laid in her arms, and her eyes blur with tears as she sees his tiny, beautiful face for the first time.

His hair is dark, like his father’s, and it thrills her to her core. He is the finest man she has ever known, and she cannot expect his son will be any less.

“Torrhen,” she whispers down at the babe, as her mother helps her work her shift aside so that he might nurse. “That is his name.”

Her mother beams, and behind her, Jon draws in a breath. “A Northern name,” he whispers. “Are you certain?”

She lays her head back, to rest upon his shoulder, as his soon roots against her chest. “A fine name for a King, I think.”

He kisses her temple, then her cheek, then cranes his neck to reach her lips, and she can feel how he smiles against her. “I love you,” he says, so quiet that she thinks only she can hear. “I love you,” he chants, “I love you, I love you.”

She wants to savor each moment of this, in his arms, his son nursing at her breast, but sleep claims her, at last, a peaceful quiet darkness that folds around the small little family she has made for herself.


	2. Hands Touching Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an ask from the lovely canyoudrownme on tumblr :) Set in Beautiful Creatures (link in text below)

##  **_14\. “I like the way your hand fits in mine.”_ **

**_Jon and Dany in the universe of_ ** [ **_Beautiful Creatures_ ** ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F18932758&t=NTU0MjBiZTBiODY3ZTMwYzcwYTIyODE5NzI5ZWZmZGNmM2NmYmVkMSxkNzA1ZTcyMmMwMjUwYTgzNGU1MjBkNThiMDM1YmMyNTU4YmUwZDdm&ts=1597425352)

“I never expected this, you know.” Jon stood just behind Daenerys, her back flush with his front, their hands joined together against the slight swell of her stomach as they peered at the painted image of Westeros displayed on the grand table before him. 

She twisted her head, just enough so their eyes could meet, and gave him a sweet, small smile. “What?”

He rubs his palm against that small, ever-growing bump, the impossible thing they’d accomplished, together, despite her protestations otherwise. “This,” he whispered, and kissed her neck gently, smiling as well against her skin. “You.” He inhaled, the sweet scent of her hair intoxicating him anew. “Everything.”

Daenerys gave him a pleased grin, and turned in his arms. “Oh?” The playful note of teasing in her voice made him laugh as she locked her arms around his neck and he shift his to join at the small of her back. “You mean you didn’t journey here to seduce me with your sad, pouty looks, and wed me, and put a babe on me, in fairly short order?”

Jon shook his head, pursing his lips. “No,” he said dryly, “Not exactly. Or at all. I assumed just the dragons alone would be a longshot, to be honest.”

Full, soft lips pressed against his, reverently, and she pulled back, staring up at him with adoring eyes. “Well done, then. You got everything you asked for, and more, yes?”

It was enough to make his chest hurt, at times, when he thought now about all that he had gained, because she spoke truly. He had come for her aid, and had gained so much more, more than he had ever dreamed, and yet, still, he couldn’t help but think that he did a poor job of expressing such to her.

“I like your hair.” Her brows rose, but her smile deepened, at his declaration. He reached a finger up to twine in a silver curl. “It’s the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, thank you,” she said, pretending at a bashfulness he wasn’t certain she could ever possess, not the Mother of Dragons. “I even grew it myself.”

He cupped her face, ran the pad of his thumb across her rosy lips. “I like your lips. For several reasons that probably don’t need explanation.”

Daenerys chuckled and waggled her brows suggestively. “They like you as well.” As if to illustrate her point, she kissed him again, this time her lips pressing and lingering against his, her tongue just peeking out between them to tease at him.

He reached a hand up to pull one of hers from around his neck, taking it in his own, folding them together, marveling at the way they seemed to perfectly formed for each other. “I like the way your hand fits in mine.”

For reasons he couldn’t quite sort out, that seem to touch her rather deeply, and her eyes grew wet as she let out a shaky sigh. “So do I,” she said, and squeezed her fingers against his. She swallowed hard, her eyes dropping to his chest, to the spot above his heart where one of his many scars lay, before rising to meet his again. 

“I dreamed of you. I know it was you, now. There’s not a doubt in my mind.” The fingers at the nape of his neck pressed tight, as though she meant to reassure herself that he was here, in the flesh, before her, not some figment of her imagination. “But still,” she whispered, brushing her nose against his, “I never expected this, either. To have you. To love you.”

There was a lump lodged in his throat, so great in size that he could fit no words around it, and so he wrapped both arms around her again, kissed her as soundly as he could, with all the love she had stirred within his dead heart, until he was forced to pull away so they could both gasp for air.

“I’m glad I found you,” he whispered, his eyes closing, his forehead pressed to hers.

“So am I,” she said, and kissed each of his closed lids in turn, as gentle as the brush of a butterfly’s wing, so sweet it made his own eyes grow hot. He said nothing more, just held her close, as long as he could, as war crept ever closer.


	3. Movie Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little slice of Asshole Jonerys, thanks to an ask by the one and only Magali Dragon :)

##  **_1\. “Squeeze three times for I love you.”_ **

**_Jon and Dany in the universe of_ ** [ **_A Thin Line_ ** ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F25449796%2Fchapters%2F61725856&t=ODE1ZDhhOGE1ZTUyMjI5ZjFmMmQ5YjIzYjVkNGYyYjBmNDdlNjY4OSxiZDU0YjA5OTQ0ZmIyNjk0OGJlZjVjOTZkZjI5Y2YzMGU0NzRlODY3&ts=1597423522)

Dany is ready for the end to come.

Because she’s absolutely certain that there’s nothing worse than her current situation: sitting in a normally-unused conference room with the rest of the sales staff, including the Prince of Darkness, one Jon Snow.

“Who chose this bloody movie?” Her harsh whisper goes unanswered, but by her side, she can hear Jon shifting in his chair.

On the screen affixed to the wall, some absolutely preposterous movie plays, the alleged heroine simpering at the male lead, their hands clasped tight between them, and if one of them is going to die she wishes they would fucking hurry up already.

“Squeeze three times for I love you,” the woman says, her eyes wide and stricken, and inwardly she cheers as the man looks seconds away from death.

She makes a loud noise, as though she’s vomiting, met by a chorus of loud shushes from her co-workers.

Ugh. What a bunch of useless soft touches they are. That’s why they’ll never outsell her, why she will always tower above them, even though most are a head taller than her.

A hand drops to her thigh, where her stocking-clad leg meets the hem of her skirt. He dares too much, sometimes, but she can privately admit that his audacity is one of the things that keeps her coming back.

This is a new development, though, and the room is dark enough that she will let this play out, see how far he’s willing to go surrounded by these sorry excuses for salesmen.

While they have admitted that it’s not JUST hatred that fuels them, they have not yet done anything physical in town. It’s been road-only, ‘til now, but apparently Jon is ready to change that.

“It’s absolutely disgusting, isn’t it?” His soft murmur sounds surprisingly close to her ear, and he’s leaning casually on his hand, elbow propped atop the table, his other preoccupied as his index finger slips under her skirt.

“Ludicrous,” she spits back, glaring at Theon when he whips his head around to glare at her. She raises her middle finger at him, waving it tauntingly until he turns around. “Oh my god, he’s crying.”

Jon says nothing, his eyes dropping to the sliver of her lap that he can see, the rest covered by the heavy wood of the lacquered table. “Pathetic,” he whispers, his breath humid on the shell of her ear, then she hears his quick intake of breath, as his fingers slide higher, meeting bare skin and the strap of a garter. She grins to herself, and uncrosses her legs, allowing him access if he decides to push things further.

She does wonder, though, if he will. He is a pompous, self-absorbed asshole, that’s certain, but perhaps he’s not exactly an exhibitionist.

She feels the scape of his teeth against her earlobe. “What’s this, hmm?”

Dany hears several muted sobs from the surrounding people, but she can’t hear what’s happening on screen anymore, far too distracted by what she’s going to goad him into doing to her to pay attention to this garbage movie for one more second.

“I think you know,” she whispers back, and turns her head, their lips only centimeters apart. “I dare you to get me off right here, right now.”

“And what’s in it for me?” He quirks a brow at her, scowling slightly, giving a quick check around before his eyes lock with hers again.

She turns his head with her fingers, her lips just glancing against his ear. “I’ll suck your cock in your office later, while you’re sitting in your desk chair.”

Another quick inhale and he nods. “Deal.” 

His fingers graze her inner thigh, inches from where she needs them, and she settles back in her seat, finally enjoying herself for once.

She certainly doesn’t want to get caught, and she knows her own tendency for reacting to his touch makes it a possibility, but she likes a challenge.


	4. Netflix and Chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the biggest hype girl in the game, my one and only, my sweet baboo burninghecate gets the soft shit she asked for - set in Reunited!

##  _**7\. “You’re so sensitive, baby.”** _

_**Jon and Dany set in the universe of** _ [ _**Reunited** _ ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F24774388%2Fchapters%2F59905453&t=OWZhYjZhZDNjNTQ5MzY5MDlkODRlYjAzYWZjMzdjYjVlNzM1NDQ0ZSwyMDFmYjI3MGEzOWQxYjZiMjZiYTVlZWY3NGQyMzMwYzNlZDljN2U2&ts=1597863479)

Dany tried desperately to keep her face level, facing straight ahead, ignoring the way Jon was shifting beside her on the couch, his head in her lap as they watched the movie he’d chosen. Dinner sat long-finished on the table, pizza crusts and empty plates and napkins strewn across the glass top.

“Dany, are you crying?”

She was NOT, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, going to let him see her face right now.

But really, this was his fault. Who watched a movie like this and didn’t cry?

“No,” she said, in a watery voice. “I just have dust in my eyes. When’s the last time you cleaned this place?”

That was crap and he had to know it, because God, they’d each only been in these new corporate apartments for like, three months now, and his apartment was very neat and tidy, and she suspected that he’d probably hastily cleaned before she came over tonight.

They were ‘officially’ dating now, after all, had filed their form with HR and spent several nights together over the past few weeks and honestly it was the best thing ever, being with him. There had been a tiny, small part of her that had worried that maybe her silly childhood crush on him would prove unfounded, and the more she got to know him she would find she actually couldn’t stand him.

Despite her now drying tears, she smiled, because nothing could be further from the truth. He was awesome, in every way she could think to measure, and she finally tipped her chin down, finding him staring up at her, his face titled towards hers instead of at the screen.

“Yep, you’re crying,” he said, and tried to hide his smile as he reached up and touched the tips of his fingers to the telltale wetness on her cheeks. “What a softie.”

She screwed up her face. “Shut it, Jon.” On the screen, the boy was burying his dog, who’d died from a broken heart at the death of his other dog, who had, in turn, died trying to protect the boy, and it was just TOO MUCH. This wasn’t a movie it was a torture-fest.

Jon sat up, chuckling, and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her head down to rest on his shoulder as another tear snuck out. She felt him kiss the top of her hair, felt his chest shaking under her, knew he was laughing. “You’re so sensitive, baby.”

She pinched lightly at his side, in the narrow gap of space between their bodies, and tried her best to glare at him. “This is your fault. ‘Where the Red Fern Grows’, Jon?” An idea struck her, and she reached for the remote, clicking back to the menu options on the Netlfix screen and smiling evilly as she spied the perfect avenue for revenge.

“Here,” she said innocently. “Let’s watch ‘Coco’ again, instead.”

Jon’s eyes widened with alarm, and he shook his head. “No, no, let’s not watch ‘Coco’.”

She pumped a fist in the air and crowed with delight. “I KNEW IT! I knew I saw you crying the other night when we watched it!” She crawled into his lap, remote held above her head as he tried to snag it. “CONFESS!”

He struggled for a few minutes but she saw the resignation wash over his face. “Dany, it’s impossible to watch that movie without crying. You cried!” His voice was hot with accusation.

“Yes, I did,” she said, and tapped a finger against the tip of his nose. “You were the one who pretended you weren’t and disappeared into the kitchen for like twenty minutes.”

“Dany,” Jon swallowed. “Are you kidding me?” His voice lowered, and eyes darted back and forth. “He was singing his grandmother that song that her father sang.” He slammed his lids shut, and she saw his adam’s apple bob again. “Fuck, I can’t even think about it.”

She snickered and dropped a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Now who’s sensitive?”

Jon sighed and gave up the fight for the remote, dropping his hands to her hips and pulling her closer to his chest, their bodies pressed sweetly together. “Fine, yes, I was being sensitive in a very manly and masculine way.”

Dany bit her bottom lip, grinning madly. “Yes, we agree on that.”

His eyes darkened as they dropped to her lips, the movie tug-of-war forgotten. “I know something else we can do, instead.”

She moaned and leaned in for a kiss, whispering her assent against his lips before they claimed hers. “I like the way you think.”


	5. Deep Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where AshleyFanfic is like GIVE ME SOFT SHIT and I'm like aye-aye, captain! Set in Something Stupid!

**2\. “Come take a shower with me~”**

**Jon and Dany, set in the universe of** [ **Something Stupid** ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F21822859%2Fchapters%2F52078639&t=ZmYyNjczOWIyZjY5ZjU3OWNhNzUzNGZjYjVkMmY2YWRlNTY3MzBhOSxmYzE4OTMyZDMyNmI3YTNlY2IyMjNkYWFhYTExNGM2ZDIwNWVjOWQ5&ts=1597354120)

“Is your brother okay?”

They were standing at the kitchen island, together, watching as Dany’s older brother Rhaegar walked the length and breadth of the living room, proclaiming shortly after entering that he needed to ‘check the aura of the space’ before he would sit and explain what, exactly, he was doing there.

The last she’d heard from her mother, Rhaegar had moved Elia and the kids to some commune in Dorne, where clothing was optional and they grew their own marijuana strains, and judging by Rhaegar’s somewhat haphazard appearance, got high off their own supply.

“I’m so sorry about this,” she replied, nudging closer to Jon’s body and molding herself against his side as he threw an arm over her shoulder. “I didn’t know he was coming.”

She could feel his laugh as it rose in his chest, a sweet vibration against her own. “He probably didn’t either.”

Dany snickered. It was hard to disagree with that. After his whole emo phase in High School Rhaeger had gone full-tilt free spirit, never in one place for too long, even after he and Elia had gotten married. Much to her mother’s distaste his current side business allegedly involved playing the lap harp in a Dornish folk band, but much to Dany’s relief, it didn’t appear he’d brought it along.

Her brother stopped, suddenly, standing tall and straight in the middle of the living room and letting out a slow, steady exhale. “This is good,” he said in a serene voice, then his face split in a broad smile. “Okay, come and give your brother a hug, D.”

She did, sheepishly, tossing Jon a wry smile as she embraced the brother she hadn’t seen for at least five years. It was nice to see him again, it really was, but it was also really annoying how he insisted on things like not owning a phone, or calling first before you showed up somewhere. Normal people things.

She pulled away, grinning up at her brother, a little trepidation racing through her when she noticed the way his attention shifted to Jon, his purple eyes, their family trademark, narrowing slightly.

“So,” Rhaegar called out, a little less friendly. “You’re the Jon I’ve heard so much about.”

For his part, Jon also looked a bit worried, but he brushed it off quickly, striding forward and extending his hand. “Aye, that’s me. Jon Snow. Nice to finally meet you.”

A scratching at the back door distracted them all, and Jon smiled politely at Dany’s brother before shoving his glasses a bit farther up the bridge of his nose and walking past to let in the pair of dogs from the backyard. 

“Is he Northern?” Rhaegar came to stand beside her as he watched Jon carefully. When Dany nodded he pursed his lips thoughtfully, his gaze oddly keen for someone who was, in Dany’s approximation, stoned out of their gourd. “That’s cool,” he finally said. “I can dig that.”

Hedwig scampered in first, a yapping bark filling the air as she spied someone she didn’t recognize. Dany snatched the small dog up, scolding her lightly until she stopped, her eyes straying for the door for the other member of their little doggy duo.

And then Ghost arrived, chased by a cool fall wind that made his white fur sway lightly, and Jon uttered a quiet command for the dog to go and sit as he shut the door tightly.

It was almost embarassing, how well-behaved that dog was, no matter what slander Jon tried to level about what Ghost had done in his puppy days. As far as Dany was concerned that dog was an enormous shedding angel.

In her arms was a frantic, squirming little devil, and she frowned down at Hedwig, whose tiny paws were scrabbling against Dany’s chest in an effort to free herself, no doubt to continue her tiny reign of terror.

She turned back to Rhaegar, ready to be teased about both her dog’s appearance and temperment by her older brother, only to be brought short at the look of awe on his face.

“Jon, dude,” Rhaegar said, his voice full of reverence, “Is that your dog?”

Jon’s handsome face screwed up in mild confusion, and he checked his eyes to Dany’s quickly before answering. “Aye,” he said, smiling down at the massive white dog as he scratched a fond hand behind his furred ears. “His name is Ghost. He’s friendly, don’t worry.”

Dany didn’t think Rhaegar was a bit concerned about an attack; Instead he was staring at Jon’s dog like it was a God.

“Okay,” he started, running a hand through his shoulder-length silver hair, his voice much warmer than it had been. “This is gonna sound weird, but,” Dany could see him look at Jon, almost imploring, “Can I talk to your dog, man?”

Jon looked as flabbergasted as she felt, and she searched her mind, desperately, for a way to explain that maybe it wasn’t the time or the place to ‘commune with animal spirits’ or whatever it was her spacy brother was up to now. Somehow, Jon managed to sound as though this was a perfectly reasonable request, and led Ghost up to where Rhaegar stood.

“Be my guest,” he said, and quickly made his way towards Dany as Rhaegar sat himself on the floor, in the very center of their living room, and gazed at Ghost.

She kept waiting for him to say something, anything, but he just stared into the dog’s eyes, his lips slightly parted, like he was in some sort of trance. Ghost glanced at them both, as though he found this entirely weird, but eventually decided to be a good sport. He lay down on his stomach, letting Rhaegar cradle his face and hold his head up, so that the man could still maintain eye contact.

Dany knew her face had to be flushed crimson by now; in a family truly filled to the brim with members that ran the gambit of the embarassment scale, this was definitely up there. A top ten, for sure, top five if she didn’t count the time Viserys had stolen a bus from one of the local high school and gone on a three hour police chase that had been broadcast on every station in Essos.

She pulled Jon into the kitchen, ready to beg his forgiveness, to ask if maybe he’d like to change his mind about the whole wedding thing now that he was learning that her entire family was certifiably insane.

But when they rounded the corner and could no longer see Rhaeger’s silent, holy commune, Jon finally couldn’t contain his laughter, and he held her close as his shoulders shook, quiet rasping laughter making her relax against him even though she was at least mid-range mortified.

“Your brother is high as hell, Dany,” he gasped into her ear, and she gave in, as well, her eyes beginning to water as she smothered her own laughter into his shoulder.

He really was the best, just everything about him, but especially the way he’d put up with first her mother, and now, well, whatever THIS was.

“Jon,” she whispered, and leaned up to press a kiss just beneath his ear, “come take a shower with me.”

He pulled back, surprised, but she knew she had him from the dark interest that flared in his eyes. “Now?” Bless him, trying to sound scandalized, as if she hadn’t fucked him in the supply closet at work three days ago. “Dany,” he hissed quietly, “Your brother is literally right there.”

Jon clearly wanted her to talk him into it, and she was more than willing to oblige. “Please,” she said, lower lip sticking out in a pout. “I’m so dirty, Jon.” She trailed her lips up the line of his throat, and nipped at his earlobe. “Am I supposed to wash my own back?”

He made a considering noise, as if there was a single doubt he’d agree, and dropped a hand to her hip, squeezing. “You have to be quiet. Hmmm?”

She scoffed quietly, wrapping her arms around his neck, swaying slightly as afternoon light streamed in through the kitchen window, surrounding them. “Like I’m the loud one.”

“Dany, please. I’m practically mute compared to you.”

Lowering a hand, she swatted at his ass playfully, and grinned. “Come and take a shower with me, Jon Snow.” She leaned in and kissed him, his lips instantly parting for hers, his hand rising to cup her cheek even as the other tugged her by her hip, bringing her in closer. “You know you want to.”

“Okay, fine,” he said, with false resignation. “You win. Happy now?”

She clapped quietly, bobbing on her feet. “Yes,” she said smugly, and grabbed for his hand, tugging him along behind her as they walked towards the stairs. “Rhae?” She stopped, seeing her brother still holding some quiet conversation with Jon’s dog. “You good? Jon and I are gonna go freshen up before dinner.”

“Yeah,” Rhaegar said absently. His eyes flicked to Jon. “Your dog is so wise, man.”

Jon tucked his face against the back of Dany’s neck, his snort of amusement barely hidden as he shuffled up the steps right behind her. “That dog used to eat entire rolls of toilet paper.”

Dany gave him a cross look and shoved him into the room that had been his, once, and was now theirs, already reaching for the buttons of his shirt. “You stop those lies, and take off your clothes.”


	6. Bleed Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> choosekindnesstoday asked and then she received - a soft shit drabble for our favorite assassins set in Strictly Business!

_**4\. “Hey, I’m here now.”** _

_**Set in the universe of Jon and Dany from** _ [ _**Strictly Business** _ ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F22724101&t=N2ZkZmZhNTc3YzU4YzM0YzYwYjFhZjMyOWVkZDgzN2M2ZjY1YmZjMyw5ZWQ5ZWE4MjVjMDQ4NWIyODZhNjZlZWYzOWY1N2JjODhhOGVkZmU2&ts=1597863479)

“Jon?”

He can’t stand seeing her like this, can’t bear the sight of her blood, of the bloody wound at her shoulder. He wants to kill whoever did this to her, rip them apart with his bare hands. With more time, and more patience, he would be more creative with how he did it, but the woman in his arms demanded his immediate attention.

Grey was right behind, the two of them having extracted Dany from their attempted breach of Harrenhal. They’d barely made it out, the vehicle parked haphazardly outside one of the little safe houses Dany kept tucked away pockmarked with bullet holes, the windshield shattered out completely.

That was easily replaced, Dany was not.

“Jon,” she moaned again, her eyes still closed. He carried her in his arms like a baby to the only room with a bed, a narrow little twin mattress plenty to support her. She’d passed out sometime during their frantic escape, but she was breathing, and talking, and for now that was enough.

He jerked his chin towards Grey, who stood alert at the door. “See what you can find to treat this with. She’s gotta have something here.”

Dany was always prepared. That’s what he told himself, and laid her gently on the bed. The makeshift pressure bandage he’d applied, as Grey had driven at extraordinarily high rates of speed, needed to be taken off, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it alone. He could stitch if he had to be but wasn’t a fucking doctor, by any stretch of the imagination.

Panic rose in him, even as Grey returned, his arms laden with supplies. He gently pushed Jon away, his eyes far calmer than Jon could dare hope for himself.

“Let me take a look,” the ever-stoic man said, and Jon nodded, rounding the bed to the other side, just in time to see Dany’s long lashes flicker and part.

“Jon?” She sounded confused, and he wondered if there hadn’t been more damage than he’d originally thought.

He knelt by the bed, and took her cold hand in his, raising it to his lips to press an urgent kiss to her fingers. “Hey, I’m here now.” He let out a shaky breath and leaned closer, in case she couldn’t see him. “It’s Jon. I’m here.”

She smiled, just barely, then hissed in pain, suddenly more alert as Grey probed at her wound. “Fuck,” she whimpered, her eyes flying to his.

“It’s okay.” He smoothed her hair back from her face with his free hand, appalled at the way his fingers were shaking. This, this very moment, right here in this room, was why Jon Snow didn’t get attached. It made you weak, and it made you hurt, and the very notion that he might lose her to some botched fucking job made him want to burn the world down. It had been more than a year since she’d picked him up, his wolf in tow, from that freezing little parking lot in Winter Town, and he hadn’t looked back since.

He wouldn’t lose her, not now, not ever.

It was unthinkable. He wouldn’t allow it.

“Bullet went through,” Grey murmured in the quiet room, and Jon was flooded with relief that he wouldn’t have to bear witness to her agony as her friend dug the slug from her. “Sit her up for me, just for a moment.”

Jon nodded, and though Dany protested, he brought to her to a sitting position. He was glad to see she seemed more awake than she had, but her face was a constant mask of pain. A bottle of whiskey was shoved in his direction, Grey’s mouth set in a grim line as he gazed at Jon expectantly. “Have her drink that. This is going to hurt, even without the bullet.”

She was clear-headed enough to know what was going on, and when he uncapped the bottle, she shook her head, her lips pressed tight. “I don’t need it,” she insisted, though her wince at the movement suggested otherwise. “I can take a little pain.”

“Dany, please,” he said, raising the bottle to her lips. “Please.”

Her gaze sharpened, then, breaking through the haze of whatever pain she was experiencing, and something snapped into place. She knew, he realized.

There were things they didn’t say to each other, words that were there, but left unsaid. They weren’t the kind of people who said those things, not out loud.

But she knew.

With a shaking sigh, she nodded. “Fine,” she said, “I will if you will.”

Jon’s brows drew together, and he would have laughed, if not for the circumstances.

“Why me?” He gave her a skeptical look, shaking his head slightly. “I’m not the one who got shot.” 

Her lips twitched. Right now, the cold-hearted, merciless killer that he knew her to be was gone. She was just Dany, right now, vulnerable and hurt, and the part of him not in near-constant fear that she was going to bleed out on the bed felt strangely honored that she was allowing him to see her like this.

He wasn’t quite himself right now, either. Whatever fear he managed to provoke in his enemies would disappear if he were seen right now, weak and afraid and more worried than he’d ever been in his life.

“You need it more than me,” she murmured. “You’re a mess.” With that, she raised a hand and helped him support the bottle as he tipped it up, the brown liquid pouring past her parted lips as she took several healthy swallows.

She was right. He smiled thinly in response, and once he had settled her back down onto the bed, he drank from the bottle himself, the slow burn of the alcohol soothing something inside him as he looked down at her, silver hair fanned against the pillow, her face pale and drawn, but still so very beautiful.

He took her hand again, and Grey thrust a strip of leather in their direction, looking to Dany and waving it in the air. “Do you want this to bite down on?”

She swallowed, her eyes finding his in the dim light. “No,” she finally breathed out, and squeezed his fingers, hard. “If it gets too bad I’ll just break Jon Snow’s fingers.”

Jon barked out a sharp laugh, as Grey snorted aloud. “Aye, that’s fine,” he said, and rubbed his thumb across the soft skin of the back her hand. “I’ve had worse.”

She nearly did just that, squeezing with all the force she had, little smothered screams escaping every now and then as Grey set to work, each neat stitch sealing her back, setting her to rights.

But through it all her eyes never left his, never wavered, as though it was just him that she needed in order to bear the pain.

He loved her, he thought. He would kill for her, he would die for her.

And maybe, one day, he would tell her.


End file.
